Memories
by hollbets
Summary: Veronica/Logan smut. Rating M for sexual content. This is my first go at smut so be nice! Complete for now but may be potentially a smut series!


**This is the first time I've written something like this and I'm unsure about it, but I thought I'd post it nonetheless- it would be a waste otherwise. It's a little bit alternative-universey but let's just ignore that for a moment, because who doesn't love a bit of Veronica-Logan smut. Thanks for reading and let me know what you think. **

Their first time together wasn't something that either of them would call romantic, but they always knew that that would be the case. She would have said that she wasn't looking for romance and he wouldn't have admitted that he was just waiting for her. It had been over two months since they had seen each other on an personal level; she had spent her summer in Europe working, whereas he worked at home and enjoyed spending time with his friends. They had thought about each other, presumably, but words weren't exchanged. They were too proud for that.

Naturally it was their school courses which brought them back together. She was taking a European film module and one of the films of the list was one she knew he'd be interested in. She knew him well, in spite of the distance she had placed between them. She knew that all she had to do was ask and he would be there to watch it with her. You could argue that she took advantage of him here, but neither of them were too concerned about this. She didn't plan on sleeping with him that night, or any other night. She didn't plan on him staying over and waking up next to her the next morning. She didn't plan on kissing him goodbye the next morning as they left to go to class. All of it just happened and neither of them were particularly bothered by it. For once they were unanimous, and neither of them wanted to turn the clocks back.

She did however, do as she said she would. She put on the film that she had invited him to watch with her. Perhaps watching the film in bed was a bad idea. Perhaps she was encouraging the inevitable. She liked the feel of his arm around her waist, and he liked the feel of her waist under his arm. The close proximity of his body to hers made her nervous. By contrast it made him excited. Neither of them were sure who made the first move; perhaps it was both of them. Perhaps it was him, finally allowing himself to give into the sexual tension between them. Perhaps it was her, finally admitting to herself and to him that everything everyone had been whispering about them was true. Perhaps they did like each other. Perhaps she did like him. Perhaps he did like her. Neither of them remembered the name of the film at this point. It was something foreign. Spanish maybe. Neither of them particularly cared much either.

That arm behind the waist slowly turned into a thumb stroking the small point of her back. She might have glanced at him at this point, but she made no move to stop him. She probably leaned into his touch a little. Maybe she even began some stroking of her own; his arm, his knee, his thigh. She wondered how far she could go before he gave in entirely to her advances. He wondered how long he could last before he lost control of himself. It could only have been seconds but it felt like hours before their lips finally met.

She could feel his smile against her lips as she kissed him- finally kissed him- after months of pretending. His kiss was rough and full of longing, but at the same time she could tell just how much this meant to him. Her kiss was soft, almost timid. She knew that this was going to change everything between them. She didn't care. She deepened the kiss and pulled at his bottom lip with her teeth, asking for entry. Instead it was he who slipped his tongue into her mouth. Within a matter of minutes the kissing was urgent and full of impatience, mouths moving against each other both in and out of synch. She began unbuttoning his shirt and he her blouse before there was nothing left to unbutton. The previously soft, gentle and respectful appreciation of the other had quickly been replaced by a sheer longing, months and months of pent up sexual frustration finally released. Neither of them was aware of what the other thought on that night, as they lay before each other naked, longing for the others' touch but they both knew that they wanted each other. He glanced at her questioningly and she smiled, reassuring him that she wanted this just as much as he did. He ran his hands along her back, across her shoulders, down her arms and pulled her as close to him as he could muster up. He trailed his fingers along her spine, cupped his hands around her bust and removed her bra with shaking hands, letting it be known that the anticipation was killing him. He took her breast into his mouth, nipping and sucking, before releasing it and focusing his attention on her neck. She felt her eyes roll to the back of her head as he sucked and littered her with kisses. He made a comment about her collarbones and she laughs that laugh he finds so enthralling, and that same laugh echoes against his mouth.

It could be considered cliché to describe the moment as being surreal, but that was what it was. She barely noticed him pulling at the button on his jeans as she hastened to do the same to his. He pulled down her underwear with one hand and teased her lightly with a finger from the other. He circled her slowly, lightly brushing her clitoris, feigning ignorance and pleading innocence when she moans in distaste at the removal of his hand- she definitely doesn't want him to stop any time soon. He hits the spot a second time and she groans, her eyes full of a mix of longing and lust.

He mutters something about wanted to please her; only her; and lowers his head between her legs, sucking and kissing her thighs as he goes lower. He hesitates slightly and glances in her direction a final time, demanding permission, before lowering his mouth onto her; licking, sucking, blowing, more licking, more sucking. She moans in pleasure- she always was a vocal lover- and satisfaction as he sucked, and she pleaded, begged for more, before finally her entire body convulses and arches and he knows. He knows that he has her in the palm of his hand now. She doesn't notice him removing his own underwear but she does notice him sliding into her, hard and thick and all she wants is him to be harder and thicker. He thrusts slowly at first, easing his way deeper into her and she tilts her hips into him, pulling him further and he takes this as an invitation to go harder, to go faster, deeper, all the while still kissing every inch of skin before him. He can't remember ever being this hard. He flips her over so she's straddling his thighs, and slowly she takes control, easing herself over him in the most excruciating way, torturing him. She takes all of him inside her before slowly pulling her hips upwards, allowing his entire member to leave her body for split seconds. He begs her to finish him off, she's pushed him as far as he can possibly go without falling apart, and she thrusts over and over until he's shaking and suddenly he's still and she's still and even the world seems like it's still for a second.

They lie there together in complete silence, until she jokes that they've never done anything like that before. He watched her carefully, waiting for a reaction of some sort, waiting for some sort of gesture that would tell him what she was thinking. She was hard to read at the best of times, but now her face resembled the strongest poker face he had ever seen. She was giving absolutely nothing away. Her eyes were closed and lips pert, her hands by her sides. She made neither an effort to touch him nor to avoid him, a positive in his eyes, until the changing point- she took his hand into hers, rolled over and continued watching the movie.

He knew right then and right there that this was exactly where he needed and wanted to be. He was finally home.


End file.
